Wishing on Dandelions
by Ghostwriter Redux
Summary: Amber had been around the block enough times to know that things rarely go as planned. Nevertheless even she's surprised when she ends up in Middle Earth after her premature demise, discovers the drawbacks of being graced with an elvish body, and tries desperately to change her destiny after finding out Elrond has foreseen her death…again…Part One in a Series.
1. Part One: Metempsychosis

A/N: I have been working on this story since 2013. Glorfindel is one of my favorite characters and I think he's underappreciated. I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing LOTR. I missed writing for this fandom. It's good to be back.

Note: I am very much aware that Westron/Common Tongue does not equate to English but for the sake of this story it does. Any other language will be used sparingly as I don't possess an accurate translator. Okay? Okay.

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Disclaimer: LOTR is owned by Tolkien/Jackson. I only own my OC's and make no profit from writing this.

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Part One: Metempsychosis

(noun): The supposed transmigration at death of the soul of a human being or animal into a new body of the same or a different species. Reincarnation.

* * *

 _In Eregion long ago many Elven-rings were made, magic rings as you call them, and they were, of course, of various kinds: some more potent and some less. The lesser rings were only essays in the craft before it was full-grown, and to the Elven-smiths they were but trifles – yet still to my mind dangerous for mortals…_

 _[Gandalf; The Fellowship of the Ring]._

* * *

"-just keep your eyes on me. I said you're holding back, she said shut up and dance with me-!" A very groggy Amber Reeves hummed along to the music playing on her phone, dragging a brush lazily through her auburn hair.

"Hey Amber, you done yet?" her roommate knocked on the door several times. "C'mon, I've gotta shower."

Tucking the handle of her brush in her mouth and scooping up her phone, towel, and magazine she trudged out of the bathroom towards her bedroom.

"Don't lay down! You're gonna be late for work if you do!" Amber resisted the urge to snort, throwing herself onto her futon and burying her face in her pillow. Her boss could care less if she waltzed in an hour late so long as she did her job. It was inventory day anyways, all she'd be doing was taking stock and that was easy.

Rolling on her side Amber flipped carelessly through the pages of her textbook. If she was going to be lazing about she might as well try to get some studying finished.

She twirled her pen between her fingers nimbly, tapping out a steady cadence on her jean-clad thigh. Child Development was one of her least favorite classes, considering she didn't like children. Unfortunately it was sort of a requirement for passing her second year of medical school.

"Get your perky ass up!" her roommate snapped, banging on her bedroom door. "Don't make Granny Lucy wait. Make sure you feed the cat too."

"Fine," she groaned, rolling off her futon. She sat on the ground, pulling her black and green trainers on and wrestled her hoodie over her head. Cole looked on in disapproval, impatiently tapping his foot.

She trudged down the stairs and gathered her purse from the kitchen table, tossing a cup of kibble in Teacup's bowl before Cole ushered her out the door.

* * *

"-I couldn't lie, couldn't lie, couldn't lie. Everything that kills me makes me feel alive-," Amber sang along happily and horrendously off-key to the music blaring through the speakers of the Jeep, smirking at the way Cole glared at her, "-been losing sleep. Dreaming about the things that we could be. But baby I've been, I've been praying hard. Said no more counting dollars, we'll b-b-b-be count-count-count-counting st-stars-ars-ars-ars-ars-."

The redhead jammed her thumb into the eject button, pulling her CD free and eyeing the back of it sourly, ignoring how Cole chuckled at her misfortune. She lightly rubbed it against her thigh before tucking into the visor over her head as they pulled into the parking lot of 'Echoes Inc.'. It was a small antique shop and her current place of employment.

Rolling to a stop he shifted the Jeep into park and she hopped down from the passenger's seat. "See ya' at ten."

"Yup. Later ."

She shifted her purse onto her shoulder, shutting the door to the Jeep and headed for the storefront. It was a Wednesday evening, mid-February with most tourist traffic being seen on the weekends so Amber knew she was in for a slow night.

At least that had been the plan until the owner, a sprightly if not occasionally crotchety woman in her 80's named Lucille, informed her she would be cataloguing a new shipment of wares the shop had just received earlier that afternoon on top of the inventory they had to finish.

"But that'll take forever-," she whined, dropping down on the stool behind the counter and pouting childishly. There went her hopes of an easy sixty bucks.

"Well, I suppose you best get started then, yes?" The corners of Amber's lips turned upwards in a small smile. She figured the reason her and Lucille got along so well because they were so much alike (read: stubborn and hard-working).

"Guess so," she agreed, grabbing the thick binder from beneath the counter. She rifled through her purse for a pen, eventually coming across one that would write after several moments.

"How's school going?" Lucille asked as they wove their way through the shelves towards the back stock room.

"It's going pretty well. I only have two classes left to finish before I can take my first licensing test. The next two years are mostly clinical rotations with some classroom work thrown in. I can't wait until my residency. I've wanted to be a surgeon since I first saw ER as a kid."

"I see." Amber didn't miss the sadness in Lucille's voice and looked questioningly over her shoulder. Lucille and her husband had owned the store since they were her age, in their early 20's, and when he passed away from COPD nineteen years ago she had managed it on her own. They had a few grandchildren but they all lived so far away and rarely came in to visit. It was then she understood why Lucille sounded so dejected and felt a twinge of guilt.

After her first licensing test she would be much too busy to continue working at Echoes as often as she did, meaning Lucille would have more work to do.

' _I'd rather die than hire and train someone else ,'_ she had told Amber one day when asked why there were so few people working for her.

She loved the old shop, everything had a story to go with it and the store housed a few precious antiques such as two Rembrandt's and even a painting by Gustav Klimt. For a time she had even thought of changing her major to that of a history major but eventually settled on the medical profession. Seeing the forlorn look on Lucille's face made her question her decision to do so.

Forcing a smile to her lips she flipped the binder open, grabbed the crowbar from its peg on the wall and headed for the largest crate in front of them.

* * *

Three hours passed and the pair had finally whittled the stack of crates and cartons down to one rather than the starting twenty. Among the newest wares were a few vases, a golden Buddha statue, an ornate katana from Japan which Lucille immediately took out of Amber's reach (much to the younger woman's dismay), several lamps, and a beautiful hand-woven tapestry from Poland. The last container held smaller wares such as jewelry and knickknacks.

"Is it that time already?" Amber glanced upwards, glasses sliding down her nose as she did so. Pushing them back up irately she tilted her head in inquisition when Lucille stood, grabbing her cane from where it sat propped against the desk.

"What's up?" she asked, running her hands back through her hair and refastening the shoulder-length strands in a ponytail, wiping the dust from her hands on the thighs of her jeans absentmindedly.

"The Lady's Guild is meeting tonight. I told Amanda I would be there," Lucille grumbled, heading back towards the front of the store. Amber stood, following her employer.

"You're going to quilt with them?" she asked in astonishment, watching Lucille pull on a washed-out blue sweater. "Color me surprised."

"I can still reach you with this," Lucille said casually, waving her cane threateningly in Amber's direction. The redhead held her hands up in mock-surrender, grinning. "Now then, if you finish with the last crate before I come back you can go ahead and lock up for the night. Make sure you leave the authenticity forms in my office. I'll go over those tomorrow."

"Sure thing," Amber replied, retrieving Lucille's purse for her and trailing after her to her car. "Drive safe Lucille."

"Yeah, yeah. Try taking your own advice kid."

Her jaw dropped at Lucille's words. "Oh my gosh Lucille! How many times have I told you that he cut me off, not the other way around."

"Several. Each time you do so I'm less inclined to believe it."

Amber snorted in disbelief. "Cheeky woman." She was treated with the rare sight of Lucille smiling before she climbed into her station wagon. Amber made sure she was safely out of sight before heading back in the shop.

Making her way to the back once more she grabbed her jacket and her iPod. Pulling her hoodie on and tucking her ear buds in she got to work on the last crate.

Sorting through the small boxes of jewelry and pins meticulously, Amber made sure to document everything correctly before something caught her eye. It was a small black ring box, nestled in the corner under a few stray packing peanuts. She eyed it in confusion before looking at the inventory slip. There were only supposed to be twenty items in the box and yet she had one extra. She went over the list several more times to be sure but still came up with twenty-one boxes.

"Weird," she muttered, picking it up and unwinding the bubble wrap from it, opening the small box. Her eyes widened upon seeing what was inside it. Sitting in the red velvet interior was a silver ring that shone almost white in the lighting. Upon further inspection she realized it was almost as though someone had literally woven tiny red gems into the metalwork which seemed to resemble vines.

"Damn this is gorgeous," she breathed, letting it rest in her palm and, against her better judgment, slipped it on her right ring finger. It astonished her that it seemed to fit perfectly, the delicate rubies glittering in the light.

She heard the front door chime and looked up in surprise. A quick glance at her iPod told her it was well past closing time as she headed up front to greet her boss.

"Hey Lucille. I'm almost done with cataloguing everything but we have a little discrepancy in-oh my god!" Her breath lodged in her throat when she rounded the corner and found herself with a gun to her head.

"I thought you said there'd be nobody here. What should we do with her?" the man holding her life in his hands asked his friend, bright green eyes crinkling at the corners beneath his balaclava. Her fearful gray gaze shot to the taller male picking up the Rembrandt hanging behind the register, examining it before turning to look at her. He gave her a quick once-over before turning his attention back to the priceless painting in his hands.

"Lock her in the back store room, there's no need to kill her," he replied almost casually, running his fingers over the frame that housed the canvas gently.

She was unable to keep from whimpering in fear when the thief grabbed her by the arm, bodily dragging her to the back and shoving her in the storeroom. Amber barely caught herself on the edge of the table, regaining her balance before feeling him grab her hand.

"That's a pretty ring you've got there darling," he cooed, holding it to eyelevel and pulling at it only it wouldn't come off her finger. Her pulse racked up a few notches, tasting sour bile on the back of her tongue as his eyes narrowed.

"L-l-let me t-try," she stammered as he released her. Amber dropped her hands, feeling for one of the small lamps on the table behind her and slammed it forward into his head.

"Fuck!" he cried out in pain as blood gushed from his nose and forehead like a leaky faucet, the lampshade shattering into pieces upon impact. She sidestepped him, racing for the back exit only to have stars burst in her line of vision in bright myriads of color when something hit the back of her head. She fell limply to the floor, clutching her head in agony as tears fell from her bloodshot eyes, pitiful sobs escaping her lips.

She could barely make out the visage of the man standing over her, raising the barrel of his pistol to her forehead, hearing the crowbar she was just clocked with fall to the ground beside her with an ominous ting.

"That was a very poor choice darling," he panted, smearing blood across his face with his sleeve. "It don't matter. I'll just pry it from your corpse."

Amber swallowed tightly. "Oh shit-."

Famous last words? Not exactly, but they were Amber Reeve's as red burst across her vision before fading abruptly to black.

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This is probably my fourth attempt at uploading this. Not because I was having trouble with FF but because I wasn't happy with it. My OC was too Mary-Sue for my liking and I hope things will be better this try around. I think I will try for lengthy chapters as opposed to short ones and frequent updates. It will suit me better. Thanks for reading.

*Does anyone remember the show ER? It aired at like nine at night on Thursdays? I was only able to watch it because my mama was out bowling with her friends on Thursday's and my dad worked second shift. Freaking loved that show. Way better than most of the medical shows they have nowadays (I'm looking at you House).


	2. Chapter One

A/N: Thanks to those who've favorited/followed this and special thanks to Antoninsh and russandolly for reviewing.

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Disclaimer: Tolkien owns Middle Earth, I own Amber. Savvy? I make no profit from this either.

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She was surrounded by darkness.

Amber felt her body rise, weightless and airy, sailing upwards towards a destination she couldn't see.

Not darkness there though. Light; blinding, solid, burning. But she couldn't see anything else.

She could hear hushed voices overlapping around her and struggled to make sense of what they were saying. After several moments the white noise cleared and she could pick out the voices of a man and woman.

" _She is so young."_

" _Death is the gift of Man, Vairë."_

" _Not if she wears_ _Queletári_ _upon her hand. I thought Vanwa destroyed it after His betrayal. She even bears remarkable resemblance to the Autumn Daughter. Do you think perhaps-?"_

" _The Autumn Daughter's spirit has already made its way through my Halls. She has reunited with her kin and is awaiting judgment with the rest of them."_

" _Her body lingers though, does it not?"_

" _True though there is no guarantee this one would survive the process. It would be foolish to resurrect her into a broken body."_

" _Though the Autumn Daughter's body is broken, I believe this girl's spirit is strong enough to endure. She can accomplish what the child could not."_

" _I have never rebirthed a Man's Fëa into an Eldar body. Surely there will be repercussions for doing so. I fear her Fëa will not be strong enough to weather the coming storm."_

" _Men are more durable than you think, dearest husband."_

" _For her sake and his I hope you are correct Vairë."_

" _I have never been wrong before, have I Mandos?"_

" _Hmph."_

The voices faded away as warmth spread from her abdomen to her limbs. Amber raised her hands, seeing her skin begin to crack apart. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as her fingers crumbled to ash. Her back bowed painfully, the sound of her bones splintering to fragments echoing in her ears.

Her entire being was consumed by fire as though she had become some twisted metaphorical phoenix. The pain was white-hot and nauseating. Everything went black and Amber waited to die.

Again.

* * *

A startled gasp tore from her lips as her eyes shot open, heart lurching painfully in her chest. Everything was too bright, too loud.

An anguished wail split the air and it took her a moment to realize the sound was actually coming from her.

She heard footsteps rush her way, felt arms come around her gently as she was cradled against a warm body.

"Oh thank Eru!" someone called out, brushing her hair out of her face and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "Lady Celebrían! She is alive!"

"Wh-where am I?" she managed to choke out, licking her dry lips.

"You are safe, sweet one." She willed her body to move, flexing her fingers and curling them into weak fists. "We feared you had succumbed to your wounds."

"Let me see her. I need to see her!" she heard a woman cry, hearing rapid footsteps coming her way. "Oh Yávien, I was so worried."

Yávien?

Were they talking about her? She supposed they were. Yávien was a pretty name, refined and light.

The only problem was it didn't sound like her.

She finally mustered the strength to open her eyes, hissing when they were assaulted by sunlight and forced them to focus on the woman hovering over her.

She had long wavy silvery-white hair and eyes that looked like they had been chiseled out of sapphires. What caught her eyes the most was the fact that her ears were pointed at the tips.

She screwed her eyes tightly shut before opening them once more.

Yep, still pointed.

Wait, had they said 'Lady Celebrían'?

The name immediately set off warning bells in her head as she pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, collecting her thoughts as the aforementioned Celebrían went to fetch her some water.

Her name was Amber. She had died, shot by robbers at Granny Lucille's store and ended up in some freaky limbo place.

Of course, this could all be some hallucination she was having in the hospital but somehow she doubted that.

Everything seemed so…real.

Her imagination was far from being _this_ vivid.

After rummaging around in her memories for a moment she was able to make the connection between the names Celebrían and Elrond.

As in, Elrond from Lord of the Rings.

She recalled the conversation she had heard between the man and the woman, about placing her Fëa in an elvish body.

Mandos and Vairë.

Two of the Valar.

From what she had gathered she apparently had her soul hijacked by Middle Earth's version of the Grim Reaper and subsequently stuffed into the body of an elf child to revive her all because she couldn't keep her grubby paws off that damn ring in Granny Lucille's shop.

"Here Yávien," she looked up at Celebrían, the elf offering her a small water skin. She took it with shaky hands, bringing it to her lips and spilled most of it down her front. "Oh sweet one. Let me help."

"No!" Amber snapped louder than she intended, seeing Celebrían recoil slightly in surprise. "I-I can do it myself."

As it turned out she really couldn't do it herself but Celebrían was patient and assisted her wordlessly, not admonishing her for her stubbornness.

Guess that sort of patience came with having three kids-

Wait.

What year was she in?

Had Celebrían even met Elrond yet?

She ran her hands back through her hair that was the same shade of coppery-red she remembered having before kicking the bucket. Small favors, she supposed.

"What year is it?" she asked bluntly, seeing Celebrían arch a delicate brow in confusion.

"It is the year 2509 of the Third Age," the Lady of Imladris said slowly. "Are you feeling alright? How is your head?"

So this 'Yávien' had apparently suffered a head injury that sent her to the Great Beyond. Pointedly ignoring the irony of that statement she decided to use that bit of knowledge to her advantage.

"It hurts. I-I can't really remember anything," she frowned, lower lip trembling as she looked at the elleth before her. Amber reached up, catching a nail on a bit of cloth circling her head.

"What do you not remember, sweet one?"

"I-I-I can't remember my name. You called me Yávien, didn't you?" Celebrían looked heartbroken at those words and she felt a twinge of guilt.

"I shall help you remember Yávien. My name is Celebrían, I was a close friend of your parents."

"Was?" she repeated, wanting to know as much about the elf whose body she now inhabited as she could.

"Yes. Your father fell in battle fifteen years ago and your mother faded from grief shortly after."

"How old am I?"

"You were born in the fall of 2487 of this age."

Amber blinked owlishly at that, glancing down at her small frame. She was just a baby by elvish standards, wasn't she? Twenty-two years in elf years was apparently _not_ equivalent to twenty-two years of human.

"What happened to me?" she finally asked.

"When we set up camp yesterday evening you ran off into the woods after a white butterfly. When you did not return immediately Raunien went in search of you and found you unconscious at the bottom of a shallow ravine," Celebrían's voice cracked slightly and the redhead saw tears gather in her eyes. "You were bleeding terribly from a wound on your head. We tried to heal you as well as we could but your Fëa flickered out this morning and we feared you dead."

"A white butterfly?" White butterflies were often associated death and rebirth and Amber tried not to roll her eyes at the irony of the situation.

"When Raunien told me you had awoken I could hardly believe him. Mandos must not have been prepared to take you so young."

' _Oh, if only you knew,'_ she thought sourly to herself as a smile spread over Celebrían's lips.

"We are not far from Lórien. I will have my father look you over when we arrive."

"Wait, Lórien?" Amber echoed nervously.

"Yes, Lothlórien is where my parents live. We visit them every summer for a few weeks. This will be your first time travelling there. We have to cross the Redhorn Pass in the mountains to reach it."

The wheels began turning in Amber head so fast she was surprised steam hadn't started coming out of her ears. Wasn't that where Celebrían had been captured by Orcs?

' _Are you fucking kidding me? Of all places to punt me into the storyline it has to be at this point!?'_ she seethed angrily to herself. ' _Okay, don't panic. Maybe we can avoid this whole situation.'_

"I-I don't know if I feel well enough to travel that far," she chose her words carefully. "Can't we just…turn around and go back to Ri-home?" She almost slipped up and mentioned Rivendell.

"The return trip will take longer than it will to get to Lórien," Celebrían explained patiently. "Besides, we have Sidhion with us. He was an apprentice healer to my husband for years. You are in excellent hands."

Amber sighed inwardly. ' _So much for that idea.'_

"Lady Celebrían, we have finished packing up camp. Are you ready to leave?" Amber glanced over at a dark-haired elf coming their way, a quiver on his back and sword on his hip.

"Yes Raunien. We will be ready shortly. Let me get Yávien cleaned up. Could you send Sidhion over? I want him to look her over before we leave."

"Of course," the warrior replied, resting his fist over his heart and bowing to Celebrían.

Amber let Celebrían fuss over her, letting the healer to examine her wound. All three elves were surprised that upon removal of the dressings her forehead was completely unblemished and bore no indication she had even been injured aside from a bit of smeared blood.

Celebrían sponged her head clean, offering her a small bowl of stew. She accepted it tentatively, eating no more than two mouthfuls before she began feeling nauseous and had to stop.

"Are you feeling well enough to walk on your own?" Amber nodded slowly, not trusting herself to say anything without vomiting. "Go ahead and make for the horses with Raunien. I will join you shortly." She nodded once more, following the elf at a distance.

* * *

"They say she possesses Queletári."

"Are you serious? And they let her travel with us? That ring is cursed."

"I hear that is the entire reason we are going to Lórien, so the Lady Galadriel can-."

"It is not your place to speak ill of Lady Celebrían's ward."

The two elves flinched in surprise, turning to face said-Lady's personal bodyguard. "Why don't you two make yourselves useful and hitch up the wagons?"

"Yes captain."

Amber glanced up questioningly at the bodyguard. He gave her what she supposed was meant to be a reassuring smile, lifting her onto one of the wagons. Moments later they were joined by Celebrían and shortly after that did their escort begin moving.

Celebrían didn't speak much to her that day aside from asking if she was well or if she needed anything and for that Amber was grateful. It gave her time to organize her thoughts and think about her next course of action.

Amber glanced down at the silver and ruby ring hanging from a thin chain around her neck, letting it rest in her palm. She was stuck in Middle Earth in the body of an elfling, in possession of some apparently 'cursed' piece of jewelry and currently en route to an ambush.

She didn't know what she could do to prevent it if anything at all, really. While her body was more durable than her original thanks to the Eldar blood in her veins she was still physically eight. She didn't know how to use a weapon and was still getting used to the essentially supernatural senses being an elf gave her. She'd be useless.

Maybe she could pretend she could see the future? It was by no means a farfetched idea seeing as how Elrond possessed it but she had no way of knowing if 'Yávien' was predisposed to something like that.

At least the child's soul was already gone before she took her body. It made her feel slightly better about the entire situation.

Amber had already decided what she was going to do with herself when she hit her majority (which was, like, eighty-something years from then but whatever). As soon as she turned one hundred years old, she was running to the Grey Havens as fast as her legs could carry her and hitching a ride to Valinor.

There was no way she was gonna be in Middle Earth when the shit hit the fan.

The Last Alliance had already happened as she was born in the year 2489 of the Third Age so she had plenty of time before the 'Main Plot' kicked off.

Until then she had to play the part of Yávien, ward of Celebrían and possessor of Queletári (whatever that meant).

It was just a role she was playing. She would fake it, fake everything.

Before she had immersed herself in the world of Harry Potter she was an avid Tolkien fan. Lord of the Rings was her favorite series. She had memorized every line from the first-

Line…

Line.

Script.

Play.

Actor.

She could work with that.

The words 'method acting' came to mind.; to submerge yourself into your character, locking your true self away and become the person you were acting as. Amber was nowhere near as good as, say, Daniel Day-Lewis but she was good at it and soon enough she was going to have _plenty_ of practice…

* * *

It was almost a week later when they reached the mountains. Amber spent that week being coddled by Celebrían and trying to adjust to her new body. She observed everyone around her, taking her cues from the other elves on how to act in an attempt to create her foundation of Yávien.

It was an overcast afternoon when they ventured through the Pass. Everyone seemed to be on edge, conversing only when necessary and in hushed tones.

They were halfway through when they were ambushed.

The orcs came from above, spilling down the sides of the canyon and throwing the party into complete disarray.

The horses whinnied in fear, rearing and dislodging the wagon from their harnesses. Amber screamed as the wagon tipped, tossing her from it like a ragdoll. A grunt escaped her when she hit the ground, only to feel someone whisk her into their arms.

"They have us cornered!"

"Calm yourself Maeglad. Protect Lady Yávien!" Raunien ordered.

"Of course! I will protect her with my l-," She didn't get to hear the last part of his sentence as he lurched forward with a grunt of pain, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

She fell from his arms, rolling across the dirt and coming to a stop before a boulder. Trying to get her bearings she could hear the scream of metal on metal, elves yelling and the orcs snarling.

"Yávien! Yávien, run!" Amber's body seemed to unconsciously respond to the name as she climbed unsteadily to her feet.

Only to come face to face with an orc.

A startled cry escaped her as she stumbled backwards in fear.

"What the fuck-!?" Amber managed to say as he lunged for her. "Let me go!" she cried when he grabbed the back of her shirt.

"I got her! I got her!" he crowed, giving her a violent shake and tucking her under his arm. He was absolutely massive compared to her. "Get the she-elf!"

"We're trying," his compatriot snarled, viciously decapitating Raunien. Amber clutched a hand over her mouth, seeing blood pouring from a ragged stump where his head used to be. "This would go faster if you helped."

"I did my part. Do yours," her captor growled. Amber twisted in his grasp, spying the silver glint of a knife on his belt. It took her two tries to grab for it, wrenching it free and driving it hilt-deep into his right thigh.

He howled in what must have been agony, dropping her to the ground. Amber scrambled up, running as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

She tripped over several bodies, most missing limbs and some weren't even fully dead. Tears blurred her vision as she briefly pondered what fresh hell she had landed herself in before feeling someone grab her waist, holding her in place.

She screamed, trying to claw at her captor's wrists before hearing them speak.

"Yávien, saes. Calm yourself. I will not let any more harm befall you." It was Celebrían, her words flowed like liquid honey and calmed her almost immediately.

"That's where you're wrong she-elf," one of the orcs, for lack of a better term, said with a cackle. "My master will be pleased-."

"Our master you idiot," another growled. "We have to move quickly."

"What for? The Half-Elf won't know they're missing for weeks."

"You underestimate the Half-Elf's power. Some of her escort still lives, they scattered like bugs when we first attacked. We don't have a lot of time before they send out a search party. Let's get moving."

Amber heard one of the orcs grumble something before starting forward, reaching for her.

She shied back into Celebrían's embrace, arms coming around her protectively.

"Let the child go. She is innocent."

"That's where you're wrong she-elf. She has something our master wants."

"It will do him no good. What use does he have of another Ring?"

Ring? Like, the one-?

Amber looked down at the chain around her neck but the ring she had found in Granny Lucille's shop was missing. Maybe she had lost it during the initial ambush or something-

"It don't matter. We do what we're told and nothing more," the smaller orc said.

"Stop talking to them Lagûrz," the larger snapped, punching him in the side of the head. "She will bewitch you with her words. Just tie them up. We need to get moving."

The smaller orc grumbled under his breath when his commander left, turning to face the two elves. "It's naptime," he grinned.

Amber heard Celebrían cry out, seeing his sword come down, the pommel connecting with her temple.

"Celebrían!" she yelped as the elleth crumpled against the rocks behind her unmoving. Amber didn't even have time to look back at the Orc before the world exploded before her eyes in various shades of red.

She could only focus on the agonizing pain in her head, tears spilling from her eyes before he hit her once more. Her vision faded, quickly followed by her hearing.

She didn't even remember hitting the ground.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed.


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: I'm back. Sorry I've been gone forever, been very busy with school lately. I really enjoyed writing this one and I'm glad to hear people are enjoying it as well.

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Disclaimer: Seeing as how Tolkien is dead I am not him. I only muck around in Middle Earth and cause havoc among its inhabitants for my own amusement.

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" _What are you reading nana?"_

" _Hm? Oh, it's called 'Lord of the Rings'. It's a book about kings and elves and all sorts of other magical things. Would you like to see?" A four year old Amber crawled into her grandmother's lap, looking at the pages._

" _But it doesn't have any pictures," she frowned slightly, running her fingers over the page._

" _The best part about books not having pictures is that you can make your own," her grandmother replied. "Using your imagination and some clues from the text you can visualize them."_

" _What's vis-u-a-lize mean?" she asked, sounding out the word._

" _It only means imagine, to make them up in your head," she said, tapping Amber gently on the forehead._

" _Oh," Amber vocalized quietly, wedging herself into the chair beside her nana and letting her little legs dangle over her nana's thighs. "Will you read it to me?"_

" _Of course sweet pea," she smiled warmly, flipping back to the very first page and wrapping an arm around her granddaughter. "Now then, chapter one; A Long Expected Party. When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton…"_

* * *

Amber awoke with a start, body jarring uncomfortably on a rough stone surface. She clenched her eyes shut when her stomach turned violently, fighting the urge to vomit. Taking controlled deep breaths proved somewhat effective against the nausea though it did little for her headache.

In all honesty it felt like a fucking rave was going on in her skull. When she thought about it, the pounding sensation was eerily similar in beat to something Skrillex had come out with recently.

A weak groan worked its way passed her lips as she rolled onto her side, curling her knees to her chest and gripping her head.

"Yávien? Yávien, are you alright?"

Yávien? Who the fuck was 'Yávien'? Furthermore, who named their kid after a planet from Star Wars? Or was that Yavin-?

" _Tithen pen_ -?" Amber bit back a hiss of pain when she felt someone touch her head gently, brushing her hair back from her face. "Oh, sweet one. What have they done to you?"

"What-?" she managed to croak out, eyes opening to narrow slits. It took a few minutes for her double vision to return to single and for the world to slide back into focus.

When it finally did, she felt like said-world came crashing down around her.

"Celebrían," Amber muttered groggily, staring up at the female hovering over her. A beat passed as she gave the older elf a once-over; the silver hair that was her namesake was gnarled and matted, her sapphire eyes had lost their luster, and her beautiful face was marred by a vicious-looking bruise around her left eye.

"You look terrible," Amber said after a moment. Celebrían's eyes widened a fraction before a tiny smile worked its way onto her lips.

"I could say the same about you, sweet one," she murmured, pulling her hand away from Amber's head, fingertips smudged red with blood.

Who knew the Lady of Imladris had a sense of humor?

"I am going to bind your wound. I am not nearly as good as my husband but I will do my best to keep you in one piece," Celebrían said softly, tearing a strip of fabric from her skirt and dabbing gently at the back of Amber's head.

A hiss of pain escaped her lips and she jolted in surprise when Celebrían's hand covered her mouth. "Shh. I know it hurts but you must be quiet Yávien."

"Why?" Amber asked, lowering her voice, settling for a wince every time Celebrían pressed a bit too hard on her wound.

"We were captured by the enemy."

' _Oh, for fuck's sake!'_ she thought worriedly to herself. Her apprehension must have shown on her face because her caretaker gave her a reassuring smile that was more of a grimace than anything but hey, at least Celebrían was trying.

While the older elleth finished wrapping a strip of cloth around her head Amber took in their surroundings. She had no way of knowing how long they were both unconscious but figured it must have been some stretch of time because they appeared to be in a dungeon of sorts.

The walls were made of chipped stone, moss growing from the crevices. Chains hung from the walls and shackles were rooted to the floor by heavy rings. With her enhanced eyesight Amber could make out depressions in the floor from where other prisoners had lain for some time. It made her shudder to think about what the large black stain on the wall was and she curled her arms around her middle.

"It smells like death, death and despair," she whispered, feeling an unusual weight settle in her chest. Her breath began coming in short clipped gasps that she recognized as the beginning of what was sure to be one hell of a panic attack.

"Yávien, _sedho_." Amber's mouth shut with an audible click at the command, seeing Celebrían raise a finger to her lips. She blinked owlishly before hearing footsteps coming towards their cell. Ignoring the taste of sour bile on the back of her tongue Amber shrunk behind Celebrían when the orc came into her line of sight.

It was a grotesque creature with jagged teeth, skin like tar, and sunken yellow eyes like a cat's. He walked with a limp and Amber realized with horror it was the one she had stabbed during the battle at the Pass.

' _Oh, for fuck's sake,'_ she thought once more when he paused before their cell.

"She-elf," he sneered, spitting at Celebrían. The elf maiden took it in stride, raising an elegant hand to wipe the dark spittle from her cheek and locked her eyes on him.

"What do you want?" she asked calmly, resting a hand on Amber's thigh to keep her from jittering about nervously.

He surprised them by letting out a bark of laughter. "Want? There's nothing we 'want', least of all from you. But her…? She's got something real special our Master wants."

"She carries nothing but the clothes on her back-." Amber let out a yelp of alarm when the orc's hand shot through the bars, grabbing Elrond's wife by the hair and yanked her towards him.

"Don't lie to me she-elf," he snarled, giving her head a vicious shake. "We want the ring."

"She carries no such thing," Celebrían choked out. He gave an almost feral growl, throwing her back onto the floor. Amber swallowed thickly, helping her sit up and rested a hand gently on her back.

"We'll decide that ourselves," he replied, upper lip curving back and baring sharp yellowed teeth before turning from them. "Auzbid! Get over here!"

Moments later did a larger orc shamble into view. "What do you want Ofdag?"

"They say they don't got the ring. What should we do about that?"

'Auzbid' was quiet for a moment before a large, terrifying grin broke out on his face. "I can think of a few things. Nothing they'll enjoy, that's for sure."

' _Uh oh…'_

"You will not lay a hand on her," Celebrían snapped, curling an arm around Amber protectively. "So long as I still draw breath."

"Ya know, we can easily change that," 'Ofdag' snorted. "Shouldn't make promises you can't keep. Let's go get the keys. We'll get these two sorted out."

"I do love sorting things out," his partner replied with a nasty laugh. "'specially when sorting things out involves sharp pointy objects."

"We will start with the youngest. Maybe that'll change your mind." The two orcs laughed, jostling shoulders as they left the cell.

"Are they going to torture us?" Amber squeaked out fearfully as Celebrían combed her fingers through her matted hair.

"They will not lay a hand on you. I will not allow them to-."

"They seem pretty adamant about wanting to do so," Amber said, voice rising to a fevered pitch. "I can't imagine you'll be able to sway them differently!"

"Calm down Yávien," she sighed tiredly. "I will do my best to keep you safe but I need you to trust me, alright?"

Amber chewed nervously on her lower lip, tasting copper on her tongue when she bit down too hard. From what she could remember about Lord of the Rings and Celebrían's capture the elleth didn't actually get killed. Tortured horrendously but she survived long enough for her sons to find her and eventually left Middle Earth.

But that was before Amber came into the equation.

"I don't have the ring," she blurted out suddenly. Celebrían turned slowly to look at her.

"Did you lose it during the attack?"

"I-I think so. I-I-I don't have it. What are they gonna do when they realize I don't have it!?"

Amber liked to think she was amazing in a crisis, hence why she had been planning on being a Medical Director in an emergency department somewhere. She was well known among her peers for having a good head on her shoulders and intelligence to match. However, having never been placed in a situation such as this before she wasn't sure how to react aside from panic.

And panic she did.

"I want you to listen to me Yávien. I am going to try to help you escape. It may take some time but I am sure we will be able to do it. I need you to be strong. Can you do this for me?"

"I don't know," Amber groaned, burying her face in her hands. "This is too much. I don't wanna die again-." She covered her mouth with her hands in shock when she realized what she had said. She hadn't meant to let that detail slip.

"Again? What do you mean-?" Celebrían asked in confusion.

Fortunately (actually, quite _unfortunately_ ) for Amber she was spared from further questioning when the orcs came back to their cell. After a five minute long scuffle ensued that resulted in Celebrían being knocked to the ground unconscious did Amber get dragged out of the cell by her hair.

It felt as though her scalp was on fire, tears flooded down her cheeks as she clawed at the hand holding her hair in an attempt to alleviate the pressure.

"Stop that," her captive snarled, backhanding her viciously. Her head snapped to the side with an audible crack as the taste of blood filled her mouth. She could already feel her jaw beginning to swell and choked back a weak sob of pain and fear.

They dragged her through crudely designed tunnels to a room a bit larger than their cell. It was almost as though the 'dungeon' had been carved into the side of a mountain but Amber wasn't able to dwell on the architecture for much longer.

A few moments later and she was abruptly shoved into a chair, arms and legs bound so tightly she wouldn't have been surprised if her circulation was cut off. Trying to keep her breathing steady (having finally realized panicking would do her no good in this situation) she kept her eyes on the far wall, trying to collect herself and mentally prepare for what was to come.

"She's all yours Stroud. Keep 'er in one piece." Amber craned her head, trying to see who the orcs were speaking to and caught sight of someone moving out the corner of her eye before a cloth was tied snuggly over them.

The feeling of blindness and helplessness was utterly petrifying.

The only noise she could hear for several long minutes was the sound of her own rapid breathing before jolting in alarm when she heard someone finally speak.

"Yávien. The Autumn Daughter." It was a male voice, deep and dark and made her skin crawl quite unplesantly. "Heir to His House. How unfortunate that Eru dealt you such a hand."

Amber opened her mouth to reply but no sound would come out. Heir to whose house? What in the world…? This guy didn't talk like any orc she'd heard so far so who was he…?

He fell silent once more and she strained to hear anything else. To her horror she heard what sounded like a knife being sharpened behind her, slowly and methodically. It went on for what felt like an eternity. She tasted sour bile on the back of her tongue and fought the urge to vomit. He hadn't even touched her and she felt like she was beginning to lose her mind already.

' _Psychological torture,'_ she thought to herself as cold sweat dripped down her face. She felt a chill start at the base of her neck, working its way down her back until her entire body was trembling in the chair.

"You quiver like a frightened fawn, Autumn Daughter. It is almost endearing," he murmured. Amber's breath lodged in her throat when she realized the sound of the knife being sharpened had stopped. She jerked in her bindings when she felt a hand brush the back of her neck gently, almost like a lover's caress.

"You and I are going to be good friends, I feel. Shall we get started…?"

* * *

Sorry I fell off the face of the earth. Thanks to those that are still reading this (if any are). See you guys next time which hopefully won't be four months from now *cowers under table*. Lots of dialogue and 'telling not showing' but the following chapters will be more descriptive and informative. Sorry if it seems like one giant wall of text. I couldn't find a decent place to divide it so yeah.


	4. Chapter Three

A/N: A bit dark but not explicitly, just mood-wise. Oh, and sorry I've been AWOL. Thank you those who've read/reviewed/favorited/followed this (if anyone still does anyways).

* * *

Disclaimer: LOTR is Tolkien's baby. Amber is mine. I make no profit from this.

* * *

Minutes turned into hours.

Hours turned into days.

Days turned into weeks yet still the torment continued.

Stroud, her captor, hadn't laid a hand harshly on her at all. He would fuss with her hair at times, other moments he would leisurely drag the tip of a knife over her skin, pressing just hard enough to leave a red line though blood was never drawn.

Still, his touch upon her skin was enough to make her stomach turn violently.

Sometimes he wouldn't blindfold her but those were the times she hated the most. When her eyes were covered she could block out his presence, pretend it was someone she knew playing with her hair and touching the nape of her neck . When she could see she was forced to watch him lay his hands upon Celebrían and he was not so merciful with her…

How long did it take her sons to find her? How long was the Lady of Rivendell held captive and brutalized by orcs before the twins came to her rescue? Surely Elrond had to have known what happened, right?

Amber chanced a covert glance over at Celebrían. Her hair had lost its luster as had her eyes. What were once beautiful pools of sapphire had hardened to glaciers, like a blizzard was eternally raging on in her gaze, centered around a black void. Her skin, previously unblemished porcelain, was marred with bruises and an unsightly sallow color.

She was fading. Amber could tell.

During the first few days of their capture Celebrían would comfort her, pull Amber into her arms and reassure her that it was all going to be alright. Sure Celebrían was a shitty liar but at least she was trying. Amber gave up struggling against her hold after the first week, instead relishing in the physical contact she received from someone who obviously cared deeply for this 'Yávien'.

Thirty nine days in and Celebrían barely made eye contact with her anymore, let alone coddled her. Celebrían would try to smile at her when she noticed Amber looking at her, atrophied facial muscles twitching as she attempted to do so but she was never able to complete the actual motion. It was heartbreaking.

She feared for Celebrían only marginally less than she feared for herself. After spending thirty nine days in captivity with her Amber was convinced she was actually in hell rather than Middle Earth. The two seemed to be almost synonymous with one another.

"Do not lose hope, Yávien, for when it gets dark the stars come out." Amber glanced up from plucking at a thread on her raggedy dress, seeing Celebrían giving her one of those ugly smiles.

"Yes Lady Celebrían."

"We will be found."

"Yes Lady Celebrían."

"Do you believe me?"

"Yes Lady Celebrían."

"Come sit by me." Amber blinked owlishly, wondering what had prompted the Silver Lady to become so chatty all of a sudden.

She climbed slowly to her feet, wincing as she did so. Lack of a nourishing diet had caused her to lose a fair bit of muscle tone and made her weak. Their captors fed them but only once a day and only gave them enough keep them alive.

"What is it?" she asked, gritting her teeth when a loud 'pop' came from her knees when she knelt by Celebrían.

"Will you sing for me, _aewithen_?"

"I can't sing very well," she sighed, taking Celebrían's hand in hers and resisting the urge to flinch when she felt how cold her fingers were. Amber folded her smaller hands around Celebrían's in an attempt to warm them.

"That is alright for I cannot sing well either."

"I-I'm no Lady Lúthien," Amber tried to joke, eliciting a sharp, short wheeze from Celebrían that she supposed was meant to be a laugh but sounded like Celebrían had fourth-stage lung cancer instead.

"It matters not," Celebrían replied, lips lifting at the corners a touch. "Just do your best. That is all anyone can ever ask of you."

"W-w-well, al-alright then," she stammered, wracking the iPod in her head for something suitable to mumble along to in an attempt to appease Celebrían. Taking a deep breath, she decided to belt out the lyrics to one of her niece's favorite songs from The Hunger Games soundtrack;

"I'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm. And the scars that mark my body, they're silver and gold. My blood is a flood of rubies, precious stones," she winced when her voice cracked but soldiered on as Celebrían rested her head on her left shoulder. "It keeps my veins hot, the fire's found a home in me. I move through town, I'm quiet like a fight. And my necklace is of rope, I tie it and untie."

She blinked back tears at the thought of her niece who would have been turning eleven two weeks earlier. Amber couldn't recall how many times she had heard the damn song, how many times she had sung along to it when she picked up her niece from school.

God, she missed her family…

"And now people talk to me, but nothing ever hits home. People talk to me, and all the voices just burn holes-."

"Louder," Celebrían whispered hoarsely. Amber took a deep breath, channeling her inner 'Lorde'.

"This is the start of how it all ends. They used to shout my name, now they whisper it. I'm speeding up and this is the red, orange, yellow flicker beat sparking up my heart."

"When I tell you to run, run, but keep singing until I do."

"What!?" Amber choked out, whirling her head to look at Celebrían.

"Trust me, Yávien. Your voice carries more power than you believe."

Unsure what to make of that statement Amber continued singing. It sounded horrendously off-key to her but it seemed like Celebrían knew something she didn't.

"Shut up she-elf!" Amber couldn't help but shriek in fear when one of the orcs slammed a heavy club against the bars of their cell.

"Do not stop," Celebrían murmured.

"I dream all year, but they're not the sweet kinds," Amber managed to whisper, feeling Celebrían give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I said quiet!" he roared, rattling the bars like an animal.

"People talk to me, and all their faces blur-."

"I don't care what Stroud says! I'll skin you with my teeth, she-elf!"" he snarled, fumbling for the set of keys hanging on his belt as realization suddenly hit her with all the force of a .50 caliber magnum. She seated herself in a crouch, preparing to spring as soon as he opened their cell. She felt an odd tingling sensation begin to work its way through her muscles, her vision beginning to tunnel somewhat.

"But I got my fingers laced together and I made a little prison. And I'm locking up everyone who ever laid a finger on me-." As soon as the words left her lips the door was violently flung open and the orc thundered into their cell.

Amber wasn't sure if she actually heard Celebrían's command of 'go' or if she had imagined it but as soon as the orc reached for her Amber sprang up and drove her shoulder into his abdomen, winding him. Adrenaline flooded her veins, sharpening her senses and reflexes. It was something she could only liken to that 'bullet time' effect she'd seen in a few video games her roommate played.

It was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

Amber glanced over her shoulder at Celebrían, seeing the Lady of Rivendell duck beneath the orc's weapon before aiming a vicious blow at his throat. The orc dropped the club, clutching at his windpipe as short clipped gasps escaped him. Celebrían was merciless, sweeping behind him while he was winded and delivered a brutal kick to his lower back with the heel of her foot.

Amber clenched her eyes shut when she heard a wet, sickening 'snap' elicit from the orc's spine. He crumpled to the ground, howling in what must have been agony though he made no effort to get up and Amber wondered if Celebrían had paralyzed him.

Celebrían exhaled shakily, eyes glassy and almost feral when they met Amber's. "Run Yávien."

So she did…

* * *

She didn't know how long she had been running or how far, only that she had to keep moving.

Amber shoved passed low hanging branches and leaves, wincing as they snagged at her clothing and carved thin lines into her skin. She didn't bother looking behind her, she didn't have to. She could hear the orcs, their labored breathing and heavy footsteps. They were chasing her.

And they were starting to catch up.

Her mind was racing faster than her feet if that was even possible as she frantically tried to assess her situation. Where could she possibly go? Everything around her looked the exact fucking same for crying out loud!

As the canopy overhead thickened, her steps grew muffled by the pine needles that blanketed the forest floor; the ground no longer cold beneath her feet. A startled cry escaped her when her foot caught on a root hidden by a patch of moss, sending her sprawling onto her front. She tasted copper in her mouth from where she had reflexively bitten her tongue when she hit the ground. Amber scrambled to her feet, looking around fearfully, able to hear water running somewhere to her right.

As she made to dart off white-hot pain shot up her leg, causing her to cry out once more. Taking a knee she gingerly touched her ankle, sucking in a sharp breath when she felt bone grinding against bone.

Tears streamed from her eyes to her mouth and she hated the bitterness of the taste. She couldn't walk, not with her ankle injured as it was.

They were getting closer…

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she whimpered, fisting her hands in her tangled and dirty hair before slamming her hands on the ground. "Fuck!"

 _You are not bound by mortal limitations, Autumn Daughter._

Amber looked up in alarm when she heard a womanly voice speak but there was no one around her.

 _You must move as swift as the wind, be as silent as the forest, as fierce as fire, and as unshakable as a mountain._

"Are you seriously quoting the 'Sun Tzu' to me?!" she was unable to keep a deranged laugh from leaving her lips. "Oh my god, I've finally lost it after thirty nine days in this hell."

 _Appear weak when you are strong and strong when you are weak._

Amber rolled her teary eyes, gingerly massaging her throbbing ankle as she sat there panting weakly.

"Whatever you say, voice inside my head," she laughed bitterly, able to hear her pursuers getting closer. Within minutes they would be upon her and she would be dead.

 _I will not let you die again._

She raised her head slowly at those almost ominously spoken words, feeling an uncomfortable tickle at the back of her throat. She cleared it once, twice, a third time but the feeling wouldn't abate. If anything it seemed to have made things worse, judging by the sudden taste of blood in her mouth.

Without warning her throat seemed to be on fire and she felt as though she had swallowed a pint of broken glass and razor blades. She gagged, coughing violently as she rolled onto all fours, body trembling as she tried to dislodge whatever the hell was suddenly lodged in her windpipe.

Amber brought a hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her wheezing before feeling something cool and wet land in her palm. Gasping for air she collapsed onto her side, hissing in pain as the movement jarred her ankle. She lay there panting for several minutes before looking down at her hand, unable to keep from gasping in shock.

There, in the middle of her palm, lay a silver-white ring covered in her blood with rubies woven into the band.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," she murmured hoarsely, clenching her hand tightly around the ring.

 _Don it, Autumn Daughter._

"Last time I did I died," Amber remarked bitterly, wiping sweat and tears from her cheeks.

 _If you do not bear it you will not survive the night._

"And if I wear it I will, O' Mighty Voice in My Head?" she chuckled hoarsely, rubbing her abused throat. Silence greeted her for several long moments and she could clearly hear the orcs getting closer to the tree she was resting against. "Aw, what the hell? What's the worst that could happen?"

She rubbed her thumb across the band before slipping it on her finger.

Her head throbbed, heart pounded. Everything around her slowed to a crawl. The edges of her vision blurred gray while the rest took on an extra-bright hue. She tried to move but couldn't. She could hear voices in her head; a man and a woman's. Both overlapped one another as hushed whispers that began to grow in intensity the more she focused on them.

The voices were great and stern, swift and subtle in movement, making strange sounds she couldn't even begin to try and replicate. The words were long and rapid, like the rush of leaves in a harsh wind. The words spoken were foreign, unpleasant sounding and when she tried to raise her hands to her head in a foolhardy attempt to cover her ears she couldn't.

Amber quickly realized, with absolute horror, that she was no longer in control of her own body...

* * *

So yeah. Sorry I've been gone so long again. I've had this chapter kinda finished for a while now but it never seemed good enough but I'm happy with this (I suppose). Sorry if it seems rushed again. I don't really like writing angst and torture and stuff. It just bums me out but now that Amber's free we can finally get this story rolling. I was at a bit of a stand still with this chapter but hopefully once we're past this hurdle everything will be a bit smoother. Thanks for reading.


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